


Summer Holiday

by Small_Hobbit



Series: The Unexpected Family [9]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Kid Fic, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-10-15
Updated: 2013-10-15
Packaged: 2017-12-29 12:30:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,251
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1005487
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Small_Hobbit/pseuds/Small_Hobbit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As part of Greg's birthday present the rest of the family gave him a cottage holiday by the sea.  This is one of the days they spent there.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Summer Holiday

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ImpishTubist](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ImpishTubist/gifts).



> Greg's birthday can be found here: http://archiveofourown.org/works/864104
> 
> Many thanks for my beta notluvulongtime for inserting all the commas.

Greg woke and stretched out in the bed, noting vaguely that Sherlock must already be up.  He rolled over, opened his eyes and found two grey ones looking back at him.

“We need to go to the beach, NOW, Daddy.  Papa says that because there was a storm last night, there will be lots of things washed up this morning and the tide will start to go out and we need to be there NOW.”

Greg groaned and prepared to start moving, but was interrupted by his husband’s voice.

“I think Daddy would like a bit longer in bed.  Why don’t you come and have some cereal. Afterwards, we can go to the beach and let Daddy enjoy some more rest.”

“But, but things will have changed; we need to go now!”

“Fifteen minutes will not make any difference, Will.”

Greg smiled to himself as he listened to Sherlock reasoning with their son in ways a few years back he would have reasoned with Sherlock about his urgent need to reach a crime scene.

He listened to them leave and allowed himself to have a few minutes more in bed.  The next thing he heard was their return.  Quickly, he pulled on the nearest clothes at hand, ready to enter the fray.

William had fallen in a rock pool and was dripping on the kitchen floor.  Not that it bothered him; he immediately started telling Greg about everything they had found and how his bucket was full of Very Important Things.  Lucy had stayed upright, but had paddled in water that was rather deeper than she had realised, so the bottom of her shorts was wet; she therefore began informing Greg of capillary action, which implied that she hadn’t gone in as far as it might look.

Greg took one look at the pair of them and told them to go and change.  He was once again grateful both that the cottage came equipped with a washing machine and that he’d had the foresight to insist Sherlock buy the children extra t-shirts and shorts.  Normally he was the one who bought their clothing, but there hadn’t been the time and whilst Sherlock tended to find such tasks boring, he had no problem buying the right sizes.

(None of this prevented either Greg or Sherlock from bringing home the occasional garment they had found irresistible; and there was the occasion just before the previous Christmas when Greg had spotted a display of boys’ waistcoats in a department store window and gone in to discover Sherlock already perusing the display.)

This time, Sherlock had bought William plain clothing whilst Lucy’s was bright and highly patterned, which suited both children perfectly.  It had, however, led to an interesting reaction the previous day when they had gone to a café for an ice cream and to give Greg a chance to rest his leg. 

The woman on the table behind them had commented to her husband, “Have you seen the dreadful combination of clothing that girl is wearing: stripes and flowers?  I always thought people _like that_ had better taste.”

Sherlock had turned round, fixed the woman with an icy glare and said, “My daughter is happy with her clothing and I fail to see what concern it is of yours.  It has the added advantage that drips of chocolate ice cream do not show, unlike those on your daughter’s pale pink t-shirt.”

Soon the children had changed and returned to the kitchen; Greg threw their wet clothes in the washing machine and then said, “Pancakes for breakfast, anyone?”

With the pancakes consumed and the washing hung out on the line, Greg and the children set off for the beach again, leaving Sherlock promising to join them in a while.  Sherlock had had to bring work with him, but he limited himself to a few hours every morning so that they could do things together as a family in the afternoon.

Greg and the children found a suitably sandy spot to settle for the morning and Lucy and William set to work building a sand castle.  As far as Greg could tell, the construction followed an intricate pattern, but he paid no attention to the details until sudden raised voices demanded his attention.  When he enquired what the problem was, both children answered at once.

“One at a time.  Will, what’s the problem?”

“The towers’ importance should be shown by the size of the shell on top.”

“Lucy?”

“More important towers should have more shells.”

“Well, there are different types of shell.  Why don’t you use different shells to mean different things and then when Papa joins us you can get him to crack their code?”

The children grinned and promptly departed to collect as many shells as they could.  Greg lay back and relaxed; content to half-doze in the sunshine.

He was disturbed by two squeals and yells of “Papa,” as Sherlock came to join them.  The children explained that he had to decipher the code of the shells.  Greg could see that it wasn’t difficult for Sherlock to solve, but unlike his usual practise of rattling off a solution and calling his hearers ‘idiots’ when they failed to follow his logic, Sherlock patiently went through the steps he had taken to solve the puzzle and the children were delighted.

Sherlock had brought lunch with him so that they were able to picnic where they were. 

This led to the recitation of favourite jokes like ‘Why is the beach a good place to picnic?’

‘Because of all the sandwiches there.’

And ‘Why did the sausage roll?’

‘Because it saw the apple turnover.’

Sherlock pulled a face at Greg due to the banality, but Greg merely grinned and laughed along with the children.

Whilst they had been eating, the sky had started to cloud over, and then they felt the first few spots of rain.  The children’s faces fell, but Sherlock said,

“Who fancies going to the aquarium this afternoon?”

There was an instant babble of voices demanding to know how many, what type and how big or small.  Sherlock laughed and told the children to help pack everything up.

The trip to the aquarium was a great success.  As was their custom, they split into two pairs: Greg taking Lucy and Sherlock with William.  Long experience had taught them that William wanted to look at details whilst Lucy preferred bouncing from exhibit to exhibit.  They would then meet back at the café, where the children would boast to each other about all the wonders they had seen, whilst Greg and Sherlock could chat to each other over a cup of coffee.  They then attempted to leave without visiting the shop, but still came out with yet another book and a selection of pencils and postcards.  Sherlock muttered to Greg that they should be grateful they hadn’t also acquired a three foot cuddly dolphin.

On the way back to the cottage, they picked up fish and chips.  Once they had eaten and cleaned the tomato sauce from various surfaces, both animate and inanimate, Greg suggested that as the rain had passed over they go for a walk along the beach.

The children raced ahead, occasionally stopping to investigate items left by the recently receding tide, whilst Greg and Sherlock followed slowly behind them, holding hands.

Greg looked at the horizon and said, “If this was a film, we could keep on walking into the sunset.”

Sherlock squeezed his hand and replied, “One day we will.”


End file.
